It’s difficult for a non-artist to describe the beauty of the Adirondacks over this weekend, looking at the tree colors at lake shore and across the shimmering water. I guess because there has not yet been a frost, which would be very unusual in October if our planet was not heating up, the colors are slightly more subtle, but maybe even more beautiful than with the stark contrasts created by cold. Younger folks are still waterskiing, for heaven’s sake.

So for the sake of contrast this weekend, I viewed the results of the Valuev vs. Barrett fight online. Valuev’s fist is the same size as Don King’s head. The pictures of the fight could have represented a tall heavyweight against a flyweight, but the difference was even more dramatic. “King Kong Invades Chicago,” was the title of one sports writer’s piece. Even if freakish, it at least injects some fresh interest in a fading sport. Unfortunately, promoters can’t put Valuev against Tyson for the ultimate carnival act, because even if Tyson punched straight up, he could still not avoid low blows.

The most fun thing for the weekend, though, might have been my vivid dream with Marilyn Monroe. She had come ahead in time from 1950, arriving in a 1950 convertible Ford. At first I just said hello to her, as she exited her car to go into a building, but then I chased after her, not wanting to miss perhaps a chance encounter of a lifetime. I ended up showing her around all the changes that had happened since her earlier time, including microwave ovens and designer items, which she didn’t find as fascinating as the ovens. Concerned more with my image than actually wanting to help another person, I passed on mention of dental floss.

The wines of the weekend, in addition to omnipresent California whites for filling and contrast, were 1999 Phelan Segur and 1997 Talbot, again. ’97 Talbot will probably become my wife’s and my wine to represent the vintage. I bought a case in 2000, but bought two more cases over time and am now picking up a local retailer’s last few bottles. His other clientele found them to be nonentities, apparently. The Talbot has gone through so many changes, and you never know whether the changes are bottle variations or results of evolution. I had declared the wine moribund a couple of times, but it always bounces back. Last night’s was best ever. It was so silky, with some tertiary asphalt and such flavors emerging around some glorious perfume. (Just realized that is probably what inspired the MM dream, seriously. Synesthesia.)

The ’99 Phelan Segur, on the other hand is questionable. Right now it seems out of balance, the tannins maybe slightly outstripping the fruit. Nose was wonderfully complex, a little evolved and deep, but the rest was just nice and classy but fainter than the tannins. It will be fun to buy a couple more bottles just to trace the wine in the further to learn a little more about its dynamics.

Took a short ride up to Standish, ME and back yesterday, and you are right Covert, the colors are spectacular this year. We had frost on our windshild yesterday morning, but the tomatoes are still kicking patootie.

Last night’s was best ever. It was so silky, with some tertiary asphalt and such flavors emerging around some glorious perfume.

I may have gotten it wrong, Covert, but I have long held the impression that Lynn doesn't care for aged wines--or perhaps you just said she prefers them young. The circumstance I'm remembering might involve your selection of some wine from Diane's cellar where you'd have selected something older like a '61 where for Lynn's sake you chose something younger. Not sure. Anyway, I cannot help but point out that here what Lynn was loving are the secondary nuances of an aged wine.

My wine shopping and I have never had a problem. Just a perpetual race between the bankruptcy court and Hell.--Rogov